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Ares is already there when we arrive, standing inside the cage door with his arms folded. He looks at Vero, and the moment he notices his lack of hair, his eyes shift briefly to me.

Brawley and Vero enter the cage. Brawley rolls his shoulders, and Vero stands across from him. They look at each other for a moment before Brawley swings.

That is when I lose my fucking mind. Vero is not ready; he won’t fight back.

“Stop!” I yell, rushing toward the cage door. Clay’s arms come around me from behind, locking me against his body. “Let me fucking go. He isn’t going to fight back—it’s not fair.”

“I know,” Clay says in almost a whisper. “Let them do this, even if it’s hard for you to watch.”

Vero staggers after taking another hit, and I push harder against Clay’s arms. “He’s hurting him.”

“He knows exactly what he is doing,” Clay says, but it does nothing to reassure me. “Both of them do. This is nothing new, and this is how Vero gets out of his head when nothing else works. Otherwise, this goes on for days or weeks.” He adjusts his hold on me, but it doesn’t loosen. “He needs to feel something, and this is the only way Brawley knows. Just stay out of it.”

I stop fighting, but Clay’s arms stay locked around me as I witness one of the hardest things I have ever had to watch.

Brawley does not go at full strength, that I can tell, and I notice Vero is slowly coming back. It may just be a smirk, but he is in there. He moves better on his feet, then throws a punch back, and Brawley takes it, grinning at him as Clay exhales behind me. It goes on for a few more minutes, then Brawley wraps an arm around Vero’s neck and pulls him in, pressing his mouth to the side of Vero’s head.

Ares opens the cage door and steps out. Relief washes over me—it is over.

I push out of Clay’s arms, and this time he lets me go, so I race through the cage door. Shoulder-checking Brawley so he lets me closer, I elbow my way in, and Vero looks at me with blood on his lip, his eyes now clearer.

“Come on,” I say. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He falls into step with me, and we wander back to the house. I ask him for the first aid kit, and he leads me to a bathroom. Vero sits on the edge of the tub while I set everything up, then I tip his chin a little to look at the cut on the bridge of his nose. It isn’t deep, but it’s still bleeding, so I press gauze to it and hold it there. He’s quiet while I work, which is not like him, but I focus on my task. As I reach for the antiseptic, he sniffles, so I put it down and wait.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he whispers.

“Do what?” I ask.

He presses two fingers to his temples. “Pretend.” Before I can respond, he hits the heel of his hand hard against the side of his head and squeezes his eyes shut. “Fuck.” He does it again. “I need to leave.”

“Vero.” I reach out and catch his wrist before he hits himself a third time. “Please don’t leave. Talk to me.”

He opens his eyes and stares at me, so lost, my heart hurts for him.

“I’m not in love with you.” He says it fast, like he has to get it out before he loses his nerve. Then he stops and shakes his head—hard. “Fuck, I’m fucking this up already.” He puts both hands over his face for a second and then drops them. “I think I do fucking love you, I do, but I am so in love with Brawley I can’t see straight. I can’t think straight. The thought of not being around him makes it hard to breathe—it’s like the air gets punched out of my lungs and it doesn’t come back.” His voice breaks on the last word, but he steadies himself and keeps going. “But I feel like you actually get me. You see all of it: the parts that scare everyone else, the parts that even I don’t know what to do with. You just stay. I have never had that with anyone before. I don’t know what to do with it, and it scares me. But I don’t get scared and I don’t know what any of this means and I am so fucking confused.”

He drops off the edge of the bath and onto his knees in front of me. His arms wrap around my legs and his forehead presses against one of my thighs as he holds on tight. I look down at him for a moment, then reach down and take his face in both hands, tilting it until he is looking at me.

“Vero.” I wait until his eyes are on mine. “I can see myself loving you.” And I mean it; I can see it. “I can already feel it. But I would never love you the same way Brawley does, and I would never try.” I hold his face when he tries to look away. “What you have with him is not something I am trying to compete with. I wouldn’t even know how, and I wouldn’t want to. Your love with him doesn’t have to look the same way as it does with me. They are not the same thing. They don’t have to be.”

He stares up at me, his eyes wet and face raw in a way I don’t think many people ever get to see. “So, you don’t want me to leave?” he says slowly. “Even though I can’t love you the same way.”

I laugh. “No. I would never want you to leave. Not for any reason.” I run my thumb across his cheekbone. “The way you are with me is exactly right for me, Vero. You don’t have to change it or name it or make it something else.” I look at him and I mean every word. “You heal a part of my soul. I don’t know how else to say it. And I think I need to be around you just as much as you seem to need to be around me.”

He looks at me for a long moment and gives me a smile—not the unhinged version I love so much, but it’s a start.

“Okay,” he says.

“Okay,” I reply.

He leans his forehead against my thigh again, and I let him, one hand resting on the back of his head. We stay like that for a while in the quiet bathroom.

Chapter Sixteen

Vero

According to my phone, I slept for fourteen hours, though that is not unusual after an episode. Lying here, I take a second to check the inside of my head; the noise is quieter, but it’s not gone. It’s never fully gone, but it is now turned down to a level that I think I should be okay to function, and that is enough for now. Even though I know the three assholes who I live with will mother-hen me for the next few days.